 | Touches on The Harp of Nature |  |
VENICE.
1.
Venice! how long has Ocean spread beforeThy greatness his eternal mirror? how,
How oft upon thy pomp and pride hast thou
Gazed in it, and, behold! these are no more!
Thou'rt passing from it, like a shadow o'er
The deep, blue sea, th' eternal, which is now
As ever! but alas! thou'st broke thy vow,
Thy bridal vow, and thy strong womb, which bore
Titians and Doges, is now barren, and
Yields nought, nought more! Lo! 'neath yon sinking sun,
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Thy fortune's framers! oft have they helped on
Thy fleeting aims, like proud steeds by thy hand
Yoked to the car of Triumph, thine alone!
2.
And yet, tho' seemingly they served but theeAnd thine, oh proud one! they were guided by
A hand far mightier, which viewlessly
Wrought with them far more during ends than the
Scant brain of man conceives, or aught that he
Can sow the seeds of! yea! such too is thy
Lot, Venice; thy sea-cradle momently
Becomes thy grave! the waves, the ever free,
Th' eternal, bear not long the chains of hu-
Man purposes; they are the wings of thought,
And by the freest is the Freest brought
From land to land; eternal themselves, to
Th' Eternal they do homage still, and aught
Less during's like clouds on their changeless blue!
3.
Behold them in the sunset's purple rays,Like steps of light interminable: on,
For ever on, and end there seemeth none!
Like some bright threshold, on which Hope might place
Her foot to enter Heaven. 'Mid the blaze,
The west appears; the day his task hath done,
And, thro' the rosy twilight, one by one,
The same stars peer! how dreamlike man displays
His pomps in face of Nature! but, as 't were,
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Appears; the firm earth melts away, like air,
Beneath her, and, save for the historian's care,
Her Past were like the track left on that clear,
Deep sea, by her own conquering fleets, which ne'er
Shall glad her dim eye more, fixed, in despair,
Upon those waves, which in man's vain grief have no share!
| Touches on The Harp of Nature | |